


The Haunting of the Lodge of Sorceresses

by AnaraWilde



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:20:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26385538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnaraWilde/pseuds/AnaraWilde
Summary: After his father's death, Jaskier hit a low point in his life.  Penniless, nowhere to live, and with few hopes of turning his life around.  He's lucky his witchy friends happen to know a place he can stay till he gets on his feet.Now his fortunes are tied with the Lodge of Sorceresses, who have sunk their future hopes and remaining money into renovating an old mansion near Oxenfurt Academy.  Not just any mansion, but the notoriously haunted one that no one has lived in for a hundred years.It's a good thing a handsome handyman showed up who might just be able to fix a thing or two.
Kudos: 3





	The Haunting of the Lodge of Sorceresses

The trouble began on a cool autumn morning in September, as Jaskier went to the bursar’s office to find out why he had been unceremoniously thrown out of his very first class of the season. He did his best not to pace and fidget as the ancient old man moved his finger, slow as honey in winter, from one name to the next.

“It’ll be under P, for Pancratz…” he offered helpfully.

The bursar stopped and stared at him over his glasses. “Yes, you said that.” And then to Jaskier’s horror he resumed his search at the place on the page he was twenty minutes ago.

“Pancratz!” Jaskier whispered, nearly begging. “My name is Julian Alfred Pancratz, the Viscount de Lettenhove. I can guarantee you my name is in there. Under P!” And then, before he could stop them, the words he swore would never come out of his mouth, came tumbling forth. “Do you know who my father is?!”

That was the beginning of the end. Not only had he well and truly made an enemy of the ancient old man, but it turned out, after a great deal more searching, his name was, in fact, under the letter “P” with a large line crossed through it, and a note that his father’s estate had sent a very clear letter informing Oxenfurt Academy that the young Viscount would not be inheriting another penny of his late father’s fortune to fritter away on wine, women, and song.

Jaskier stared at the letter, as if the ground had fallen away beneath his feet and his body was moments away from disappearing into an abyss. “Why does it say _late_ father?” he said in a small voice.

The bursar, gave the boy a rather pitying expression for a change.

“But… what am I supposed to do?” 

“For starters? Get out by the end of the week,” said the bursar, firmly.

* * *

“He never once told me he was ill. Not a single hint that he might drop dead suddenly and leave me penniless. What am I supposed to do?”

The dark haired girl across the table raised an eyebrow at the pitiful display he was putting on. “But you were hardly close. If I remember correctly, you always hated that old goat, and if His Honour had deigned to write you a letter about his impending demise, you would have doused it in cheap wine and set it on fire before ever opening it.”

“Yen…please! A little tact wouldn’t hurt.” Triss had her arm around Jaskier’s shoulder, trying to both comfort him and fend off Yennefer’s version of support in a time of crisis.

“It’s true. I say good riddance, and if the worst that comes of this is that you have to sing a little for your supper, then you’re better off than most.” She softened the sting of her words by refilling his glass with more wine than was decent.

“You know you can stay with us, don’t you?”

Yen choked on her drink. “What? Tell me you’re joking!”

Triss cut off her protest with a look. “It’s not like we don’t have the space. There’s so much work to do before it’ll be ready for the other girls to move in, we can put Jaskier to work, and more than that, we have a duty to help our friend in his time of need.”

“I really do need a place to live. Just until I get back on my feet.”

“This is going to end in tears…” muttered Yen, with a dismissive hand wave. But her attention had shifted and she lost interest in the conversation. A slow, heated smile spread over her face, and both Triss and Jaskier followed her gaze across the room.

“Oh!” Triss exclaimed softly. “It’s him!”

Yennefer was up without a word, making her way over to the bar. She was always beautiful, but there was something about the way the air crackled with electricity around her when she spotted her prey and really turned it on, whatever it was. Jaskier had seen man after man fall to her deadly charms, and he knew better, and yet he found himself mesmerized.

“So it turns out Yen does know how to help distract a friend from a truly depressing day.” His eyes snapped to Triss, and the heightened blush on her cheeks. “Wait… you said _him_. Who is _he_? I’m missing something.”

“There’s not much to miss,” Triss said, downplaying Jaskier’s interest. “We put out a note on the campus bulletin board asking for help with the house. You know, a labourer who knows how to do more than pick out paint colours and can do some heavy lifting. And.. he showed up at the door this morning.”  
The man in question had clearly noticed Yen. As she flirted with the bartender, he watched her quietly, from the corner of his eye.

“Hm, I see what you mean. Please tell me you hired him on the spot. I’m already playing out in my head what a great start to the day it’ll be to wake up, walking out my door and see him… working…”

Triss laughed, and then suddenly hugged Jaskier. “Ohh, that means you’ll do it? You’ll move in and help us?”

“I can hardly say no now, can I?”

By this time, Yen was leaning in close, trailing her finger along the man’s chiseled jaw. 

“Well, don’t get your hopes up. I… I didn’t quite convince him to take the job. Everything was going perfectly, and then… he suddenly went all quiet, like something made him uncomfortable. Said he’d need to think about it.”

“Was it Yen coming on too strong or the creepiness of your haunted house?”

“Yen wasn’t home at the time. She just has a knack for wanting the same things I do, so of course she marched right over there before I even had the chance to-“ Triss sighed in frustration, and Jaskier gave her shoulder a sympathetic squeeze. “Besides,” she continued, “the house is not haunted. It’s just old, and creaky, and needing a little love and attention.”

“Preferably from a pair of hands belonging to one handsome man… who is using them to turn down Yen?” Jaskier and Triss watched in some surprise as Yen made conversation and pointed them out. They dutifully waved back, acknowledging the acknowledgement, but instead of turning his attention back to Yen, the man stared for a moment, then gently removed her hand from his arm and got up from his seat. He dropped enough money for both their drinks and took his leave of Yennefer, leaving her in some degree of shock.

Both Jaskier and Triss scrambled to pretend they weren’t staring, as she returned and sat pouting.

“So…?” he prodded after an eternity.

“I have no idea. He was into it. He wanted me. I could see it in his eyes. I had him! And then… he said he had to go home. Who does that?”

Triss laughed. “Right, what man in his right mind turns you down? Maybe… he’s married? Unavailable?”

“Gay?” asked Jaskier hopefully.

Yennefer was deep in thought, distracted by her strike out. “No… there’s something odd about him. Which almost makes it worse that he left, how am I supposed to find out more now?”

“If Triss convinces him to work on the house, you might have a chance?” said Jaskier helpfully. “You’ll just have to convince him it’s not haunted.”

Yen’s eyes lit up and she smiled at her best friend and roommate. “So you have his number? I'm sure we can figure something out.”

* * *

Jaskier had not expected Triss to take the idea of him working off his rent quite so literally, but the next morning she interrupted his feeble attempts at soothing his hangover with a loud knock and cacophony of clattering as she dropped off an armful of tools.

“Rise and shine!”

"I hate morning people! Why didn't I know you were a morning person?!" Jaskier groaned and pulled the blanket over his head. He was sleeping on a mattress on the floor of an otherwise empty room. The girls hadn’t been kidding about the state of the house. “No amount of banging on these walls with a hammer is going to change the fact that to fix it, you need to knock it down and build an entirely new house in its place!”

“Shh,” laughed Triss, “The house won’t like to hear you say that.” She patted the door frame as if to assuage the slight. “Now, up and at ‘em. I thought I’d show you around before I leave for class. Yen never made it home last night, so she’ll have to fend for herself for breakfast.”

The kitchen turned out to be lovely and surprisingly useful. Working appliances, and a cozy table, and a sink that offered up clean water instead of the brown sludge that came out of the one in the bathroom upstairs. Triss already had eggs, bacon and toast on the table before Jaskier made his way down.

“It’s not fancy, but we managed to make this part of the house liveable. There’s the kitchen, the room down the hall that Yen and I share, and the one bathroom in between. Enough to keep us going while we tackle the rest of this monstrosity.”

“It’s huge…” Jaskier agreed.

“Big enough for our sisters from the Lodge to finally have a place of our own. That’s becoming more and more important. They’ve closed down two more of our schools this year. There’s so few of us left… We need this. You know Yen wouldn’t live in a place like this if it wasn’t important. And at the price we got it?”

“Too bad you can’t wave a magic wand and have this whole place fixed up.”

Triss blinked a moment as if caught off guard. “Wait. What time is it? I’m late! I’m late!” She left the remains of her breakfast and hurried to grab her jacket and book bag. “Shoes! I need shoes!”

Jaskier picked up a piece of toast and followed her about on her frantic search, amused. She had one shoe on and another in her hand as she flung the door open and turned on him.

“Don’t you dare sit on your ass all day Jaskier. You better put some sweat and elbow grease into this place before I get back!” She waved her shoe threateningly, and smiled sweetly at him and his slack jawed expression. Then she grew confused. He wasn’t looking at her at all. He was looking over her shoulder.

Triss spun around to find herself face to face with the man from the bar. His hair - blond? So blond it seemed white - was tied loosely into a ponytail, and he wore beat up jeans and a white shirt that was splattered with paint and stretched just snugly across his broad chest.

“I uh… thought I’d take up the job offer, if it’s still available," he mumbled. His eyes were intense and focused, despite the awkwardness of his voice and clear uncertainty.

“What? Really? I mean… yes, yes! It’s absolutely still available. You’re hired!” She babbled. “Oh, shoot I’m late, I can’t stay and show you around. But Jaskier here can. Consider him your assistant. He’s here to help.”

Triss shoved on her other shoe and rushed out the door and past the man. Jaskier saw her mouth the words, “Keep him here!” behind his back.

He waved distractedly, still staring at him.

“I’m Geralt,” said the man, holding out a hand. “And you’re Jaskier?”

"Jaskier..." he repeated dumbly. Trying to get a hold of his senses to not entirely make a fool of himself he nodded and swallowed hard, forcing out the only words he could. “I’m here to help? You. I'm here to help you...”

**Author's Note:**

> Writing by the seat of my pants. Will add tags and pairings as the story develops.  
> It isn't really my fault if, given the choice, I ship Geralt with everyone he comes across... is it?  
> Let's see what happens!


End file.
